CHAPTER XXVI

DORRY AND I AND THE CRICKET

For a couple of minutes I could hardly speak, I was so surprised. The

picture in that article was the picture of _Jib Jab, is he human?_ I knew

by the wavy hair and the look he had, that made me not know whether he was

jollying me or not. He had that very same look in the picture. I could

almost hear him speak to me. And I just couldn't take my eyes off it. Even

that funny kind of twinkle in his eye was there, just the same as when he

made Judge Dot mad.

"You and I are the only ones that saw his real face; that's one good

thing," Dorry said; "It's Jib Jab all right, hey?"

"Yes, it's Jib Jab," I said, kind of half dreaming, I was so surprised.

"And that's why you came out here; so as to read it and look at it all

alone. Dorry, if you got the hundred dollars and bought a motorcycle, you'd

fall off it and break your neck. You'd never get any fun out of a

motorcycle you bought that way."

"Give me the paper," he said.

"Here," I said, "take it."

I guess neither of us spoke for about a minute. All the while I could hear

the cricket chirping, it was so quiet.

"You heard what Harry told him about how they'd had their fun already,"

Dorry said; "you heard what he told them--about how they'd had their fun

already--didn't you? Now it's _our_ turn. If we can find him--

"Shut up," I said.

"You heard him," he just kept up, "and you know it's true. They had their

adventure. They had their hike--didn't they?"

All the while I could hear the cricket, just chirping, chirping, chirping.

It was awful dark and quiet.

I said, "Dorry, don't talk like that, because you know you don't mean it.

If you meant it, you wouldn't be a Silver Fox, you wouldn't. And it's just

the same as telling lies about Harry Donnelle. I dare you to go and ask him

about it; I _dare_ you to; and see what he says. Maybe he's reckless and

crazy about adventures and doesn't care anything about having money, and

maybe he's kind of as you might say wild. Maybe he flirts a lot with girls

and likes to risk his life, maybe, but anyway, he's fair and square, and he

never did a mean thing in all his life. Mr. Ellsworth said so, and I guess

he ought to know. If you think you've got a right to do that, go and ask

Harry Donnelle. I _dare_ you to. Go and tell him you know where that

soldier is and that you're going to notify his people up there near

Plattsburg and claim the hundred dollars so you can get your motorcycle.

Just go and do that."

"Why should I do that?" he asked me. "What's that noise?"

"It's a hawk," I said; "he's after little birds in their nests. Don't you

remember how we wouldn't name our patrol the Hawks, because they sneak--

_you voted against it yourself--_you did."

"I mean that other--"

"It's just a cricket," I said. "I'm glad we're out here all alone. I'm glad

it's so quiet and dark. Maybe you can't see in the dark, but you can see

what's right or wrong better in the dark, because I'm not mad--honest I'm

not. You know what Tom Slade said about trails. Maybe he's dead now, over

in France; but anyway, you know what he said about trails."

"He wanted a motorcycle, too," Dorry said.

"Yes, but you know what he said about trails?

"How if you get thinking about doing something that isn't fair and square,

it just means you're on the wrong trail. And you know yourself how hard it

is to find the right trail if you once get started on the wrong one? Maybe

you don't think much about Tom Slade, these days, but I do. Often when

nobody knows it, I do."

"I don't see anything wrong in it," Dorry said; "_we_ were the first to see

him."

"Then what makes you feel so mean about it?" I asked him. "What makes you

ask me about a little sound like a cricket? It's because you're kind of

rattled and you're not sure, that's why. Once a murderer went and confessed

after hearing a cricket all night. Maybe you don't know that it's in a book

how crickets start your conscience--maybe you don't. Listen!"

He said, "You mean you'll tell and you won't help me?"

"No, I won't tell," I said, "and I _will_ help you. I'll help you to put

the Church Mice on their feet. I'll help you to give that scoutmaster a

good welcome. I'll help you to fix it so those poor little codgers all have

uniforms. I'll help you to fix it so you can look Harry Donnelle in the

face--and Mr. Ellsworth, when you see him. And Tom Slade. And if it's a

case of sneaking, I'll help you with that too. We'll make those fellows

think that _they_ discovered Jib Jab, otherwise satisfactory, you can go

and ask Harry Donnelle they'd never take the reward. And if that isn't if

it's all right for you to get the reward. And if he says yes, I'll say so

too. I bet he has no use for motorcycles anyway."

Dorry didn't say anything, only just stood there.

"What do you say?" I asked him.

He didn't answer me.

"What do you say--Dorry?" I asked him.

"How does a cricket make that sound, anyway?" he asked.

"I should worry about how he makes it," I told him.

He just said, "Funny, isn't it?"

Roy Blakeley, Pathfinder · 第 26 / 40 章